


In the Deep

by Iron



Series: TFCon Commissions [3]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation 1 - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, Frotting, M/M, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Very Domestic Villains, so sweet it’ll rot your teeth, soft and gentle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:48:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22154296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iron/pseuds/Iron
Summary: TFCon Request from Aridara - Starscream/Megatron, Cuddling—Megatron and Starscream spend the night together.
Relationships: Megatron/Starscream
Series: TFCon Commissions [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1566976
Comments: 4
Kudos: 61





	In the Deep

**Author's Note:**

> For Aridara! This was a lot of fun to make.

The reason Starscream steals into Megatron’s quarters night after night, or at least the reason he always claims, is because Megatron’s is the only set of quarters with a large viewport set into one of the walls. It stretches from ceiling to floor alone where the hull would be, large enough for Megatron to stand in front of it and an outside to see him, entirely unobstructed. Megatron would retort that Starscream’s would have one too if he hadn’t fragged off the Constructicons during the ship’s design period. 

It doesn’t change the fact that Starscream had shouldered his way into Megatron’s personal rooms after his shift ended, wingtips low as he bends his helm over a datapad. Megatron glares from his berth, where he’s sitting with his own datapad. The ocean outside his viewport is a deep, deep blue, masses like voids swimming outside it, the depths of the ocean only cut through by the spotlights positioned around the ship. Starscream flops down on the berth next to Megatron, shoulders tilted towards the viewport, one graceful thruster pressings into the berth and the other hanging down to the floor. He squints at the datapad, bright in the darkness, and entirely ignores Megatron sitting next to him. Megatron rolls his optics in response. “You should be wearing your glasses.” 

“I don’t need glasses. Only old mechs -“ _like you_ goes unsaid, “Need to wear optical correctional lenses.” 

Megatron says nothing about the matter of his age, despite Starscream having outstripped most of the mechs currently on Earth in terms of it. He’s certainly the oldest of the Seekers, and his frame is failing in all those small ways that frames tend to, over time. Optical sensors dimming, servo responses slowing, internal power plants slowly becoming less efficient. Not that Starscream would admit to any of the growing deficiencies showing on his frame. He insists on acting as if any admittance to his age would somehow turn him into an old mech, rather than it just being an admittance of reality. And maybe then he wouldn’t be squinting quite so heavily at his datapad in the dark of Megatron’s room, all but blind and unwilling to admit that he needs another light turned off if he’s going to try reading. 

He leans towards Starscream instead, letting the tip of his nose drag up, along the top edge of a wing and up a tall vent, then back down again, nose following the line of his shoulder and neck, until the Seeker is shivering and tilting his helm to the side to allow the touch. Megatron sets aside his datapad, arms reaching around to take Starscream’s from his slack fingers to set it next to his own. His hands caress Starscream’s sides, fitting into the nip of his waist, pulling Starscream back against his chest as he mouths at his neck, lazy, doing nothing but seeking pleasure muffled by the exhaustion of a days’ work. Starscream arches back into the touch, and he lets out a short, soft cry as Megatron falls back into the berth and drags Starscream down with him. 

Starscream makes a soft whining sound as one of Megatron’s big hands caresses the space just beneath his cockpit. Wings flutter in idle pleasure and Megatron smiles softly against his audial, hooking his ankles around Starscream’s peds to keep him from flailing. “It’s too late to frag,” Starscream mutters. “Old aft.” 

“Maybe I just want to hold you.” He laughs, rolling them over until he’s pressing Starscream into the berth with his weight, crushing him, impressing himself on his mate. Trapping the flighty Seeker in one spot for five minutes, just for a little while, just as long as he can manage it. Starscream arches as much as he can manage under him, wiggling insufferably. 

“Maybe I don’t want to be held!” 

Megatron buries his face into the plating on the side of his helm, engine purring. “You do, my supernova, I can read it in your field. As much as you hate being kept still, you love being restrained by me.” He rolls his hips slowly, each motion languid and self indulgent, seeking pressure and pleasure that builds slow and syrupy in his hips. Starscream raises his hips to meet each slow thrust, mouth opening with a rough keen. Fingers find the seams along Megatron’s waist, teasing the wires hidden there as his armor bellows open to allow hot air to escape. Starscream’s fans are running loudly, to the point that between them and the scrape of metal against metal Megatron can no longer hear him moaning. 

He drags his glossa along Starscream’s audial, scraping the edge of his fang against the sensitive metal, and feels Starscream shudder under him. His frame seizes and then drops, strutless, to sink into the mattress. Megatron chuckles against his audial, hips rolling, letting the slow, melting pleasure of it all finally bring him over an edge that isn’t quite overload but is, in the end, just as satisfying as one. Starscream shudders again. Megatron holds him through it, room too warm and filled with steam now. 

Starscream is finally still enough to hold, exhausted, as older frames get by these things. Megatron settles on top of him like a huge blanket, engine idling and bringing itself back to baseline. He intends to make sure they stay like that for the rest of the night and far into the morning. It’s a rare treat to have Starscream so much to himself. 

It doesn’t last for long. They both drop off to sleep, the only thing to see them the squids swimming outside the ship.


End file.
